Reservations
by Cendari
Summary: A miniseries, if you will, starting any time after 'Structural Corruption' exploring Don and Charlie's relationship as well as the DT 'ship. UPDATED & COMPLETED 021406
1. Reservations

Author's Notes: This is dedicated to N'Kala whose fabulous fic "Normal" gave me the idea to write this.

Summary: For the entirety of his teenage years, Don Eppes resented his genius of a little brother powerfully. It isn't easy being a teenager and being shown up by some sprout who gets everybody's attention without trying. But when did Don realize that he'd finally "gotten over it"?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Damn it.

* * *

**Reservations (1/1)**

Don Eppes could remember the exact day he'd realized that he'd gotten over his jealousy of his one and only brother.

In his second year of college, Don had been lounging in his dorm room his most recent girlfriend and Amy had discovered the framed picture of him and Charlie on Graduation Day."I recognise you, but who's this?" she'd asked, pointing to pint-sized little Charlie, dwarfed in his gown and cap but proudly displaying his rolled diploma as he leaned against his brother's legs. Don had honestly waited to feel the bitter resentment that had characterized his teenage years, but it hadn't come.

And now both Charlie and their mother were all the way on the other side of the country at Princeton and Don missed them more than he was willing to admit. And then it had hit him like a lightning bolt; he didn't resent Charlie any more. In fact, he couldn't be any prouder of his genius of a baby bother.

He was brought back to earth with the sound of Amy's foot tapping and he realized he hadn't answered her question. "That's Charlie," he said simply. "My brother."

"That's so sweet of you guys; to dress him up so he wouldn't feel left out on your Grad," she'd cooed.

It had taken Don a second before it had dawned on him that she didn't understand. "No, that's Charlie's Grad, too."

"From what? Grammar school?"

"No, high school." Don had enjoyed her ignorance for a moment longer and then took pity on her. "Charlie's a genius; he's at Princeton right now studying mathematics. He's eleven."

Amy had expressed disbelief and left and Don found that he had enjoyed it so much that he repeated it with every girlfriend throughout his college years.

As time went by, the graduation picture was slowly joined by others; Charlie's convocation ceremony, Don's convocation, various other occasions like when Charlie had received a prize for excellence in mathematics the same week Don had joined his first minor league baseball team. Each and every girlfriend had not believed Don when he'd told her about Charlie.

At least, all of them, until Terry.

* * *

Six years after that day found Don in his third month at the FBI Academy, cozying up to Terry Lake in the library during a "_study session_". Well, technically he was studying, he just didn't think anything he was learning would be of particular use during a written exam. Unfortunately for him, Biology didn't exactly have much to do with the way Terry's body felt pressed up against his while they tried to steal each other's breath.

During a quick break while they actually tried to study their textbooks, Don discovered a wallet-sized picture of their high school Grad tucked in the cover of one book (he supposed as a bookmark) and couldn't help staring at it for a second. Now he was the one all the way on the other side of the country while Charlie was back in California and Don had to admit that he missed the bright-eyed boy who would follow him around with awe in his eyes.

Terry caught him looking at it and leaned over his arm to get a better look. "Who's that?"

"Me and my brother, Charlie, on Graduation Day."

"Smart kid, is he?"

"Charlie is so beyond smart, there are no words. He's seventeen and he's already a tenured professor of mathematics."

Don watched amusedly as Terry's eyes glazed over slightly as she considered that. "Wow. Math, huh? So, he's not just smart, he's the kind of über-geek I used to beat up to do my homework."

Don considered her for a moment and then grinned. "Then it's a good thing I didn't know you back then. I had a reputation for beating up anybody who messed with my kid brother."

Terry grinned back at him. "Yeah, good thing."

Don was just considering whether he wanted his breathing pattern screwed up again just when he'd got it back to normal, pleasurable or not, when another trainee appeared at their table. "Hey, Eppes, you got a visitor."

Don's brow wrinkled as he tried to figure out who would be visiting him. "Male or female?"

The other trainee smirked a little. "Male. And young."

"What's he look like?"

"Short, dark curly hair, dark eyes, a little nervous-looking…" The trainee trailed off as Don vaulted out of his chair and ran at top speed for the door. Terry thanked him and gathered up their books before following Don.

Meanwhile, Don had caught sight of the unmistakable hair of his one and only brother. "Charlie!"

Charlie turned and Don could see relief in the dark eyes. "Hey, Don."

"What are you doing here?" Don paused as a horrible thought occurred to him. "It's not Mom or Dad, is it?"

"No, no, they're fine. I just – it's summer vacation, and I was in D.C. for a little field trip and I thought I'd come by and see you, but if you want me to go, I will…"

Don couldn't help the tiny smile that quirked his lips as he caught his skittish baby brother's shoulders even as the teen turned to leave. "No, it's great to see you! I just, wasn't expecting you."

"Surprise?"

Don smiled fully and pulled Charlie into a quick, tight hug. "Wonderful surprise," he assured and stifled his chuckle as Charlie slumped with relief under his very fingertips.

"That's good, because I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me, what with how busy I know you are and…"

Don couldn't help it; he laughed fully and wrapped an arm around Charlie's shoulders. "I'm always glad to see you, Buddy."

"Really?"

"Really."

Terry caught up to them just then and stared for a second at Charlie before recovering and loading Don down with his share of the textbooks. "You must be Charlie," she greeted cheerfully.

"That's me."

"This is Terry Lake, Charlie."

Now, Charlie may have been sheltered his entire life, and a little bit naïve about what went on in the real world, but he was far from stupid and he quickly caught on to all that Don wasn't able to say. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too. Well, I'll leave you two to catch up. Don, I'll see you later." Terry left without waiting for them to say good-bye, and Don was left with his playfully grinning baby brother. Without warning, he grabbed Charlie in a head-lock and rubbed his knuckles into Charlie's scalp while the teen laughingly struggled to get free.

"How about a quick tour?" Don offered once Charlie was finally upright again.

"That'd be great!"

"Come on, Buddy, I'll show you everything to this place."

"Hey, Donnie?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

Don slung an arm around his slighter brother's shoulders. "I missed you, too, Kid."

* * *

Don was brought sharply out of his reverie by the sound of someone calling his name. He looked up to find Terry with a knowing smile on her face and grinned sheepishly. "Deep thoughts, there, Eppes?"

"I was just thinking… Remember the first time you met Charlie? At the Academy?"

Terry thought for a minute. "Yeah. I remember wondering how a brain so large could fit into someone so small."

Don chuckled. "He hasn't grown much since, has he?"

"Nope."

"Talking about me?" Charlie's voice queried impishly from very close to them.

Terry turned around and smiled at the mathematician. "You know it."

Charlie turned bright eyes on his brother. "I was wondering if you were interested in lunch; my treat?" he offered.

Don clutched at his chest in mock-surprise. "I don't believe it. Charles Eppes actually thinking about food in the middle of a project?"

"Wanna come with us, Terry?"

Terry looked from younger to elder Eppes and shook her head. "No, I think I'll leave you two to your bonding. Just make sure you have him back in no more than two hours and keep him out of trouble," she ordered, shaking a finger at Charlie.

Who grinned cheerfully. "Deal. Come on, big brother. There's a giant bowl of pasta at that restaurant down the street screaming our names."

When Don turned mildly questioning eyes on Terry she smiled. "Go on. We can hold the fort for a couple of hours. You guys deserve a little one-on-one time that's not about work."

He grabbed his jacket, pager, and cell phone and rose, slipping the jacket on and clipping the electronic leashes to his belt. "I'll be back in an hour."

"Better make it two," she directed more to Charlie than to Don.

"Come on, Don; I made reservations."

"Awfully certain of yourself, weren't you? And what would you have done if I wasn't available?"

Charlie shrugged innocently and flashed a conspiratorial grin at Terry as they turned to leave. "Taken Terry out for lunch, I guess."

Don's huff of laughter echoed in the bullpen as they finally exited and Terry allowed herself some satisfaction for a job well done. And Don didn't even realize he'd been manipulated.

Hah, some crack FBI agent he was.

Now all Terry had to worry about was what Don might do in revenge when he figured out he'd been played.

Granted, what with spending some quality time with Charlie, she didn't think he'd really mind.

Much.

After considering that for several seconds, Terry decided to make sure Don wouldn't have an easy time of gaining access to her apartment and the first step would be relieving him of her spare key without him catching her.

Much easier said than done. Lord help her…


	2. Strategy

Author's Notes: I couldn't stop myself. This takes place about a few weeks after "Reservations".

Summary: Terry's been expecting Don to take his revenge for manipulating him for weeks, but never in so diabolical a fashion.

Disclaimer: If I actually owned them, I wouldn't be trying to scrounge up enough money to pay for college... So, suing me really wouldn't help anyway. I don't them. Drat it.

* * *

**Strategy**

Terry knew something was wrong the instant she entered her apartment. It was too quiet. Odd, she knew, since she lived alone, but there it was: her apartment was too quiet, and that fact made her nervous. She very gently laid her groceries on the floor and pulled her gun from her hip holster then tiptoed through the rooms in her stocking feet. What she found in her bedroom caused an abrupt mental review of every curse word she'd ever learned.

How had he gotten in? She'd only given him one key and that had been easy enough to lift during the next working dinner following hers and Charlie's strategy to get Don out of the office for a few hours; so again, how in God's name had Don Eppes gotten into her apartment without a key?

Mind, she had been expecting retaliation in some form for a few weeks, but this was positively demonic.

Her partner slept peacefully on her bed, fully dressed, on top of her covers. He'd rolled over onto his stomach and had his arms curled around and his face buried in one of her pillows.

As absolutely delicious as he looked, and as much as she wanted to shed her clothes (_and his!_) and wake him up in a particular manner, the thoroughly annoying man had a lot to answer for.

Terry tiptoed back into her living room and picked up a small Nerf football, the perfect ammunition. After returning to the bedroom she stood in the doorway and took careful aim; she didn't want to have to retrieve it and get so close to him if she missed – she didn't trust her own body where he was concerned most times. She fired her foam ammo and it hit her target, thankfully. Don woke and rocketed up so that his weight was supported on his palms and twisted back to look at her, fully awake. Getting caught flat-footed and groggy by a squad of bad guys during a stakeout was never a good way to start the day.

However, Don must have just crashed and a small part of her felt guilty for waking him up when he obviously needed the sleep because he simply blinked at her for a second before relaxing back into her pillows. "Hey, Terry," he murmured, sliding his hands back around the pillow he'd been snuggling and closing his eyes.

Terry had fantasized many times about how he'd look, all sleep-rumpled and relaxed in her bed, and had steeled herself for that very occurrence, but fantasy paled in comparison to reality. She allowed herself a boneless slump against the doorframe while she fought to get the pure and utter _want_ coursing through her veins to subside. _Oh, God, I am in _so _much trouble…_

Terry inhaled and exhaled slowly and when she felt her emotions were under enough control she took a few steps forward so she was standing at the end of her bed and wrapped her finger around his ankle (she didn't trust herself to touch any other part of him) and shook it. "Up," she ordered, taking on the tone she used with belligerent suspects.

Tired as he was, Don knew better than to mess with that particular tone and obediently climbed out of her bed. He saw something flash in her eyes before it vanished again and wondered at it. "In there," she continued, gesturing jerkily towards her living room. Don collapsed on her cushy couch, turned on his side, put his head on the armrest, and closed his eyes. "_Don._" He knew that tone all too well, too, but he was just so tired, and if she would only leave him be for a minute…

Terry allowed herself an affectionate smile as she heard his breathing deepen into full sleep and knew she wasn't going to be getting an explanation out of him anytime soon. With a sigh that wasn't nearly as reluctant as she liked to think, Terry gathered a spare blanket and pillow, lifted his head enough so that she could stuff the pillow under it and then spread the blanket over him. As an afterthought, Terry swept the blanket back to make sure he wasn't still wearing his belt. She knew him well enough to know that his tie would probably be found either with his suit jacket or on her bedroom floor, but figured that he might had forgotten to loosen that other accessory of his.

After discovering that she had been right about the belt and he had forgotten to take it off, she briefly considered what it would take to slip it off, but since Don was no light-weight and she didn't really want to disturb him again, she just left it loose and opened his pants button upon further deliberation.

With her impromptu guest taken care of, Terry put away her forgotten groceries and retreated into her bedroom for the rest of the night. But her whole bed smelled of him.

Terry didn't fall asleep for a while.

* * *

When she woke up, Terry discovered that she was unaccountably warm and her pillow seemed to be thumping or something. Far too relaxed to worry too much about it, she slowly opened her eyes and discovered that her pillow was white, but all the rest of her sheets and pillowcases were blue. Further examination revealed that her white covered pillow was, in fact, Don's chest, and his arms were wrapped around her, and even though she had practically draped herself all over him, she was perfectly content. Obviously, he had joined her sometime during the night, but he had also stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers.

Terry sighed and gently caressed his ribcage, something she never would have allowed herself to do if he'd been conscious. But, he wasn't, and despite how little she wanted to wallow in her feelings for him she knew she might never get another opportunity like this, so she intended to take full and complete advantage of it. But not advantage of him. Damn it.

With a soft kiss to the part of his chest her cheek was resting against, Terry forced herself up and into the washroom for a very cold shower.

Don yawned and stretched slowly. He could never remember feeling so rested or relaxed, but he credited his patently obvious idea to steal Terry's sheets (even though he couldn't remember plotting to do such a thing recently; in the past, sure, but not lately) as a resounding success. Blinking, Don peered around and was very startled to discover that he was not in his own bed in his own apartment and concluded that his apparent sheet-stealing plan had failed – miserably. He could still smell Terry all around him so that left him with one option: that he was in Terry's room.

Whoops.

Memory floated back to him in bits and pieces and he groaned and flung an arm over his eyes when he recalled crashing in her bed. The intervening time was a blur, but presumably she had come home and discovered him there, and forced him out onto the couch. He vaguely recalled getting up to use the bathroom, stripping out of his suit, and then collapsing into bed where he'd passed out with a comforting presence nearby.

Oh, he was so dead.

Don levered himself out of the bed, found his wrinkled-beyond-belief shirt and pants and donned them, before heading into her kitchen to make them both a pot of coffee. He was going to have to do some very fast talking to get out of this one with all his body parts intact.

Terry tiptoed out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel into her damp hair, and prepared to sneak into her own bedroom to get all the clothes she was going to need as she'd forgotten to grab them on her way out. The moment she got the door open wide enough to peek in, however, she nearly slammed it again with the sheer frustration that flooded her. That damned man. He had to nerve to break in, crash on her bed, cozy up to her in the middle of the night, and then vanish again before they said more than three words to each other? She wasn't going to hit him; she was going to _kill_ him! Slowly and painfully, too.

The sound of clinking dishware brought her out of her reverie and she wandered out in her bathrobe to investigate.

There stood Don, looking so completely at home and so totally domestic in her kitchen that she just wanted to jump on him, work rules be damned. He turned and took in her attire, or lack thereof, and watched, absolutely fascinated, as a bolt of pure lust shot through his eyes. "Morning," he offered, and held out a gently steaming mug. Terry padded over to take it from him and was mildly surprised to find it doctored exactly the way she liked it.

"Morning," she replied.

"Listen, Terry, I…"

She held up a hand to stave off any excuses and flashed a self-conscious smile. "Maybe we should wait until I have more clothes on to have this talk."

There it was again, mixed with curiosity and speculation, but it was definitely lust. "Maybe that would be a good idea." His voice had lowered, gotten more husky, and her knees practically quavered in response.

The cheerful ringing of her cell phone interrupted their impromptu staring contest, and Terry dove into her bedroom to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Terry, you wouldn't happen to know where Don is, would you? He's not answering his phone at home and I think his cell's dead." Charlie, dear, sweet, oh, so _dead_, Charlie asked worriedly.

"Hi, Charlie. Yeah, he's here, just a second." She turned around to deliver the phone to the man in question and instead found him lounging in the doorway, eyeing her bathrobe speculatively. She handed him the device and shoved him back into the apartment proper with a, "It's Charlie, talk to him and leave me alone for a few minutes."

The last thing she saw before the door closed in his face was the thoroughly wicked smirk that took up residence on his face as he asked, "Want some help?"

Terry leaned back against the closed door with a sigh and willed her blood to stop singing.

Twenty minutes later Terry left her room dressed for work and ready to take on her evil partner. To her surprise, he was waiting for her, with her briefcase packed, her purse ready, and her keys dangling from his fingers, not to mention the extra-tall travel mug full of coffee. When she took in his suddenly neatly-pressed appearance with a raised eyebrow he explained that, "I keep a change of clothes in my car just in case I crash somewhere nowhere near my or my dad's closet." He passed over her things as he spoke and turned to open the door.

She could well imagine how many times he'd had to work in a wrinkled suit before he'd figured out the strategy. Probably about as many times as she had, in the beginning.

"I'll see you at the office," he said, and leaned down to brush a kiss across her cheek. He'd made it all the way back upright and was almost out the door when he'd realized just how domestic that had been, but stupid pride forbade him from turning around to see how she'd taken it.

If he had, he'd have found her standing stock-still in the middle of her foyer with her hand pressed to the spot he'd kissed and lustful stars in her eyes.

Nevertheless, Don couldn't help but feel a supreme sense of self-satisfaction as he strode towards his SUV and grinned the entire way through Los Angeles' horrendous rush-hour traffic.

And if that wasn't a dead give-away as to how pleased with himself he was, he didn't know what was.

FIN.

* * *


	3. Epiphany

Author's Notes: Thank you to all the lovely people to reviewed. Your comments were extremely helpful and appreciated. It took a little doing to complete this and not force it, but I think (read: hope) I got it. Please enjoy responsibly.

Summary: Don just got Charlie back; he can't lose him now.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a very hefty credit card bill

* * *

**Epiphany**

Charlie finally managed to corner Terry in the conference room. "Well?" he demanded, all playful innocence and waggling eyebrows.

"Well, what?" Terry responded as if she didn't know what he was asking. Charlie's expression clearly read, "Look, I may be oblivious, but I'm not stupid".

"What did I interrupt?" Charlie sing-songed in a way that made Terry wish she wanted to hurt him. Unfortunately, she couldn't, not only because Don would kill her if she so much as tried, but also because Charlie was the sweetest guy she'd ever met and she simply couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt him.

Well, that, and Charlie so rarely ventured out of his own little world that seeing him so playful (annoying, but playful) was such a relief that nobody she knew could begrudge him his irritating-little-brother phases.

Damn it.

Terry sighed and dropped into one of the chairs. "You didn't interrupt anything, Charlie."

He scoffed. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe that. How about the truth this time?"

"That is the truth. Nothing happened, Charlie."

Charlie, sweetheart that he was, knelt in front of her and looked into her eyes. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"What's hard?"

"Loving, or in my case, liking, someone who's off-limits because of our jobs."

"Oh, Charlie," Terry sighed. "Amita?"

He flushed a dull pink. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, but I'm the psychologist, remember?"

"Right." They shared a smile. "So, how's it going otherwise?"

Terry frowned reprovingly at him. "Did you tell him about our… project?"

Charlie's face froze. "I don't know?"

"Charlie," Terry chided, her disappointment plain.

"You know how I get in the middle of a project! It's like trying to wake up a sleeping teenager; we're willing to say anything just make you go away!" Charlie defended indignantly. "Well, Don must have come in on me while I was working on my latest set of equations and I guess he started asking questions. I don't even remember what he asked me, or what I said, but I do remember him stalking out muttering something about how "she will pay". That's it, Terry, I swear."

Terry raked a hand through her hair. "Well, he got his revenge."

"What do you mean?"

"I got home late the other night and found Don asleep in my bed. I don't know how he got in; I mean, I gave him a spare key in case of emergencies, but I stole that back nearly two weeks ago."

Charlie threw his head back and laughed. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what, Charlie?" Her voice had taken on that dangerous quality that told the mathematician that he had better cough up some answers and quick.

"My brother, the big, bad FBI agent, has always had trouble keeping track of his keys. He's taken to making at least five copies of each one and stashing them in various places. Chances are, that's what happened to the one you gave him."

Terry stared at Charlie for a second and then the absurdity of it all hit her. Her fearless, oh, so competent partner had problems with losing his keys? That was just so cute…

No! Not cute. Not cute, adorable, endearing; absolutely none of those words that had just crossed her mind. "Oh, Charlie, what am I going to do?"

He shrugged once. "Beats me. I'm the clueless one, remember? I might suggest talking, though."

There was a knock on the door right before it opened and Don poked his head through the opening. He silently took in the sight of his brother kneeling in front of his seated partner for a second and smiled fondly at them. "Is this a private party, or can anybody join?"

Terry stood, bringing Charlie up with her. "What's up?"

"Lunch?" Don suggested. Terry's stomach growled as if in answer and she turned pink as the brothers chuckled. "I'll take that as a "yes". Coming, Charlie?"

Charlie shook his head. "I gotta get back to campus; I just came by to drop off those equations. Are you coming by for dinner?"

Don eyed him speculatively. "That depends. Are you cooking?"

"No." The reply was instant. Don suppressed a shudder as he remembered the first and last time Charlie had cooked.

"Then I'm there."

"See you guys later."

"See you, Charlie." The mathematician exited, and Don and Terry looked at each other. "So, lunch?"

* * *

When Terry caught Don staring at her for the third time in ten minutes, she set her cheeseburger down and glowered a bit. "What?" 

"So, what makes you think I'm so easily manipulated?"

"It was Charlie's idea!"

"That's not what he said."

Terry's repertoire of curses got another mental airing. She knew as well as he did that Charlie, when extremely distracted, spoke nothing but the truth. It was his unconscious gambit to get rid of whoever was bothering him; tell them whatever they wanted to know and maybe they'd go away. "We thought it would do you both some good. You haven't really been able to be alone together since before you moved back. You boys needed a little time to reconnect."

"Thanks, Terry."

They shared a fond smile. "You're welcome. But I still haven't forgiven you for breaking into my apartment."

To her surprise, Don flushed a light pink. "I, uh, I was going to confront you about manipulating me, but I guess lack of sleep caught up with me."

She eyed him speculatively. "Uh-huh," she said, her tone neither believing not disbelieving.

"Did I tell you that I'm sorry?"

"Not until just now."

"Whoops."

"Yeah, "whoops" is right."

"Now, I have another bone to pick with you."

"And what might that be?"

"Why, in God's name, _why_ did you have to imply to my dad that our first date was the lamest you've ever been on?"

"Why's it matter?"

"Because, when Dad told me about his date, _I_ told him that particular date was the best one I've ever been on."

"Oh."

"Yeah, "oh"."

"For the record, I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Oh?"

"I mean… Okay, the Laundromat and the pizza were lame."

"Oh, thanks," Don interrupted dryly.

"But it was the company combined with the pizza and locale that made it my favourite date, too."

"Really?" The smile that wreathed his face was the same self-satisfied smirk that he'd been wearing ever since that morning when he'd woken up in her apartment. That smile, added with his highly intrigued tone (the one that said "come on, tell me more"), made her scowl at him. And what was up with the parrot routine between the two of them?

"Yes, really, and now that I've inflated your ego beyond all tolerance it's probably time to head back to the office."

"Oh, come on, Terry."

"Don't you "oh, come on, Terry" me, Don Eppes. You forget; I know you."

"Yes, you do. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

The chirrup of his cell phone cut off anything she might have said and Don answered it with an "Eppes".

Terry watched his facial expressions change and quickly paid the bill when he went white. _Oh, please, no…_ "Don, what is it?"

"Our serial bomber's struck again."

"And?"

"It was the CalSci campus."

"Oh, God, Charlie…" Terry's heartbeat stuttered and went straight into double-time.

"He hasn't checked in; nobody knows where he is, and the only thing Larry and Amita could tell the police was that Charlie was working on something and they'd both seen him in his office less than ten minutes before the bomb blew."

Terry snatched the car keys out of his trembling fingers. "I'm driving."

"Terry, I just got my brother back, I can't lose him again; not like this."

"I know, Don." She reached across the SUV's console and squeezed his hand. "But right now Charlie's depending on you to stay clear-headed long enough to help him, if he needs it."

Don drew several deep breaths and visibly relaxed. "Right. Charlie. Can't let him down."

"That's right."

Don and Terry both independently swore their hearts stopped when they saw the devastation done to the math building at CalSci. Containing their fear for one curly-haired mathematician took just about every ounce of concentration they possessed. They tracked down Larry Fleinhardt, Charlie's perennially distracted mentor, and found him absently answering another agent's questions while he continually glanced between the agent and the building. "Larry!" Don called.

Larry turned and relief flooded his face. "Oh, Don, and Agent Lake! I can't seem to – that is, I haven't seen…" He took a deep breath and finished his sentence, "I can't find Charles."

"We'll find him, Larry, I promise," Don vowed as Terry nodded emphatically at his side.

"Oh, good."

"Dr. Fleinhardt, are you hurt?" Terry asked gently as she led Larry towards a paramedic.

"Oh, no, my dear, I was in the library when it happened. I suppose I'm just a little dazed."

"Well, why don't you let the nice medic check you out and Don and I'll get right on finding Charlie."

Terry left Larry in the medic's capable hands and searched out Don, eventually finding him trying to console Amita and interview her at the same time. She watched them for a second, felt that teeny twinge of jealousy that hit her whenever she saw somebody else in Don's arms, but dismissed it without another thought. Amita had it bad for Don's eternally clueless little brother. Don caught sight of her and his whole being screamed for help but David caught up with her at the same time and she transferred her attention to the younger agent. "What's up, David?"

"See, here's the thing: Nobody's been able to find or heard from Charlie, right?"

"Yeah." Unsaid was her "And?".

"Well, I checked the bike racks around and near the building, and Charlie's bike isn't there. What if he went home in the intervening time and doesn't know yet? And we all know how bad Charlie is at keeping his cell phone charged."

For the first time since they'd gotten the heart-stopping phone call, Terry beamed. "David, I could kiss you! Don!"

The elder Eppes gratefully disengaged from Amita and stalked over. "What's up?"

Terry couldn't contain her excitement long enough to let David explain it, so she did, "David had the idea to check the bike racks. Don, Charlie's bike isn't here! What if he went home right after Larry and Amita saw him but he doesn't know what's happened yet?"

"Brilliant thinking, David," Don praised, clapping Sinclair on the shoulder. Don's cell phone found its place by his ear a millisecond after he'd pressed the speed-dial for his childhood home. "Hi Dad, it's me; is Charlie there?"

Terry knew by the way Don's body slumped that Eppes Senior had answered in the affirmative. She and David both relaxed and David excused himself to mark Charlie's name off the missing-and-presumed-dead list.

"Can I talk to him?" There was a second's pause and then, "Hey, Buddy, where've you been? Turn on the news." Terry knew that Don would be all right now that he knew that Charlie was unhurt, so she squeezed his shoulder, and quietly left to help investigate the bombing.

* * *

Later that evening, Don, with Terry in tow, walked through the front door of his old home and was instantly greeted by the smells of… spaghetti sauce, was it? Alan appeared in the kitchen doorway and smiled widely. "Don! And Terry! Well, come in, come in; Charlie's in the solarium, working on another project, and dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes." 

"Thanks, Mr. Eppes," Terry said with a smile as Don immediately disappeared in search of his wayward brother.

Don found Charlie scribbling away on his chalkboards and leaned against the doorframe as utter relief flooded him. Charlie had his headphones on and so didn't hear Don at the door, a fact Don was grateful for at the moment.

Something must have alerted Charlie to another presence because he spun around, whipping his headphones off as he turned. "Hey, Don," he greeted.

Don couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face as he moved towards Charlie. "Hey, Buddy. What'cha working on?"

Charlie turned back around and proudly surveyed his work. "I think I can pinpoint where your bomber lives." He pointed to a map with little red flags marking the targets. "See, before today, each target was almost perfectly random, but even they followed a pattern. CalSci is outside of the main zone." True enough, each one of the earlier targets, while seemingly at random, worked in a sort of bizarre spiral fashion, and the CalSci campus was a long way from the target Charlie had calculated and told them would come next.

"CalSci was deliberate," Don realized.

"Yes," Charlie replied bluntly. "Somebody who knows what I'm doing to find him and thinks I'm getting too close."

Don paled as the implications hit him. "That's it, you're not leaving my sight," he pronounced. _I can't lose you, Charlie; I just got you back._

Charlie smiled, patiently, indulgently, and it hit Don how much he absolutely detested that look. "I should have it finished by the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Just don't make yourself sick, hey, pal?"

Charlie agreed with a smile and Don informed him that dinner would be ready soon. Sure enough, "Don! Would you and Charlie come set the table, please?"

Don clapped Charlie amiably on the back as they moved towards the door together. "Coming, Dad!"

After dinner, a few beers, and an old movie, Charlie and Alan checked on Don and Terry and discovered that they'd simply passed out together. Not that Charlie could blame them after all the hours they'd been putting in on that bombing case. Don sat closest to the armrest and leaned back into the corner, while Terry used his chest as her own pillow. They were perfectly content to remain so together, if the possessive placement of her hand on his chest and his similarly placed arm around her back meant anything.

It took some doing, but Alan and Charlie managed to get the agents' legs fully on the couch and helped arrange them so Don wouldn't have a major crick in his back when he woke up without waking them and Alan covered them with a blanket. He and Charlie shut the house down and silently retreated upstairs to their own bedrooms.

Don woke up with the strangest weight on his chest. He looked down to investigate and discovered his sanity wrapped up in a tiny blonde package. He pressed a kiss into her hair and, when she stirred, soothed her by gently rubbing a hand up and down her back combined with a quiet shushing noise. Terry quieted and sleepily flexed her fingers around his lower ribcage; the sensation had him suppressing a violent shiver. Don tightened his hold on her and quickly slid back into sleep with the feeling of finally being at peace.

He next woke with the fabulous scent of coffee and cooking bacon in his nostrils. The sensation of feeling his muscles tense must have wakened Terry as well because she stretched languidly. Don nearly whimpered as pure lust shot through him when she pressed every inch of her admittedly delicious body against every inch of his own. She moaned sleepily and lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Good morning," she murmured, eyes smiling at him.

"Morning," he responded, feeling his lips lift to smile back at her. He loved it when she was like this: when she simply wasn't awake enough to let her walls slam up between them; when she showed him the Terry he'd met at the Academy. She collapsed back down against him with a soft smile, closing her eyes and moving her hand so her whole arm wrapped around his ribs.

His father appeared in the kitchen doorway with a mug of coffee in each hand. "Ah, you're awake. There's coffee here, and breakfast's on the table.

"What time is it?" Don asked.

"A little after six. You still have time to shower and take Terry home so she can change."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome."

Terry eventually rose and waited for Don to stand and stretch out his back before they moved into the kitchen where there were full plates waiting for them.

For the rest of the day Don wore a sickeningly happy smile, one that confused every last one of his coworkers, and alternately infuriated and delighted Terry. Granted, the fact that his grin got wider every time he looked at her might have had something to do with her constantly wavering emotions

Granted, Don and Terry had independently realized something that morning: their relationship had changed.

And it was that epiphany, and only that, that kept Terry from smacking him.

**FIN**.


	4. Authors Note

**To my lovely readers and reviewers**: Part 4 is in the works, and I had hoped to have it finished and up by now, but life keeps interfering (like usual). I haven't abandoned it, merely put it on hold until I can devote the time and energy it deserves. With any luck, I'll have it finished by the end of the month; until then all I can ask of you is to be patient and to bear with me.

**MissCongeniality: **Yes, Part 4 will include Don/Terry kisses (which happen to rank right up there with Harm/Mac and Buffy/Angel kisses).

**Moonfairyhime:** I know all about the sleeping teenagers. In my senior year of high school, my mother came in to wake me up for school and I apparently said something along the lines of: "Yeah, yeah, I'm up." I woke up at 11:30 to discover that I'd missed my morning classes. I don't remember the wake-up call, but I do remember explaining to her later that sleeping teenagers are willing to say absolutely anything if it means the person trying to wake them up will go away.

**To SD, EclecticTrekker, Scifi-warper, pkw, Hockey Gurl, Sila Ninque, HieiKuramaGirl, Candice, Kippling Croft, LotRseer3350, Alexandra, shimmerinstars, SharpShooter626, CrystalMak, and merryw:** thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind words. It's one thing for your mother to tell you that she thinks your stuff is good, because she's obviously biased, and quite another for your peers, and I thank you for that. )


	5. Quackers

_Author's Notes_: Well, here it is, Part 4. Princess Sophia (my muse) has finally deigned to return from camping the plot bunny caves (EQ addicts will know what I'm talking about) and has temporarily agreed to relinquish the one bunny she captured and bounced around my head for the last few weeks. (And I'm ever so glad; the bunny she captured involved the most heinous of the fanfic author's crimes - the Mary-Sue... eek) Anyway, here it is, thanks for reviewing, and, unless I get inspired sometime in the near future after not being able to watch an episode for nearly a month, this might be the last of them... ( It's been great, kids, thank you. 

_Summary_: Terry can't sleep. Neither can Don. And since when does Don have a cat?

_Disclaimer_: See me: poor, working, in bigtime current and future debt. Obviously I don't own them, cause if I did, I wouldn't be poor, working, or in debt. Or still living with my parents, for that matter.

* * *

**Quackers**

Terry pulled out the key Don had given her _for emergencies only_. Well, depending on how she worded it, it could be construed as an emergency, right? Granted, she wasn't sure what that damned man was going to make of her explanation that she couldn't sleep because he wasn't with her.

Not that she planned to tell him that. Maybe that she'd had a nightmare – which was also partially true – but that opened her up to the ribbing of her life. Tough decision. But, as sleep-deprived as she was feeling at the moment, she was willing to risk it.

Done convincing herself, Terry turned the key in the lock and slid the door open. She was so glad that he'd moved into her building a few weeks ago; their new living arrangements meant that she didn't have to traipse through LA in the middle of the night in her PJs. She opened it just far enough for her to slip in and shut it quietly behind her. She slipped her shoes off and was heading in the direction of Don's bedroom when an orange and white blur streaked past. Terry was so startled that she only just contained her squawk of surprise. The little blur resolved itself into an absolutely adorable kitten with that largest blue eyes Terry had ever seen on a cat in her life.

The kitty cocked its head to the side and considered her for a second and then its mouth opened and…

Terry gaped. Did that cat just _quack_ at her?

She was perfectly willing to write it off as an over-active imagination and extreme sleep-deprivation when it _quacked_ at her again! Was it not aware that cats weren't supposed to quack? Terry leaned down and picked the obviously confused animal up, confirming its gender at the same time (female). The tag on her collar told Terry her name was "Princess", and the silly creature mewed happily at her and commenced purring like a little motor.

Well, at least the little thing knew how to make noises other than _quacks_.

Who ever heard of a quacking cat anyway?

As if to confirm Terry's mental commentary Princess quacked again.

Terry quickly let Princess go, having decided that a cat that made strange noises was far too much to take at three in the morning, especially with as little sleep as she'd been getting lately.

It took the work of moments to strip down to the thin cotton nightshirt she slept in and to slide in next to Don. To be honest, she was a bit worried that he'd wake up and ask her why she was there, but the dratted man merely rolled over onto his side, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close to his chest.

Terry sighed as her muscles finally relaxed and she fell asleep.

* * *

Don was having the most fabulous dream. In it, Terry planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across his collarbone while she lightly massaged his chest muscles. One of his hands wrapped around her back and pulled in so she was pressed against him from their chests to their knees, and he used his other hand to pull her head up so he could kiss her the way he'd wanted ever since he'd moved back to LA. While their lips were busy (_hoo boy, were they ever_), he palmed one of her incredible breasts through her shirt. 

Wait a second; Terry was never clothed in his dreams. While his head marvelled at his own imagination, his hands were very busy removing the impediment to skin-to-skin contact. Now that there was nothing between them, Don rolled them so that Terry was beneath him and he shivered when she wriggled seductively against him. Terry broke their kiss off so she could catch her breath, but he followed her and captured her lips again in the hottest kiss he could remember getting.

It wasn't until he felt the tiny footsteps on his back and heard an indignant quack that Don realized that his fantasy was no fantasy and he really had Terry next to naked under him. His eyes snapped open and stared into Terry's; her pupils were so dilated that her eyes were almost black and she was gasping for breath. Don gaped at Terry for a second before she pushed at his shoulder and he shifted off of her – getting an outraged quack and a back full of claws in the process. The kitten padded forward and settled by his ear, purring madly. Don sighed and petted the kitten while he waited for Terry to find her nightshirt.

He knew she had succeeded when the mattress dipped a little as she sat down beside him. "Morning, Terry."

"Morning, Don." To his amazement, she sounded a little sheepish. He lifted the kitten free and rolled over so he faced her. Only to watch as little, quacking Princess Teresa (and he would never _ever_ tell Terry that he'd named his cat after her) went straight for his partner and snuggled right into her arms. "And, good morning to you too, Princess," she added with a smile.

Princess quacked at her.

Terry raised amused eyes to his. "And what's up with the confused feline?"

Don shrugged. "I, uh, accidentally ran over her mother. So I brought her home with me. I've been thinking of getting a pet and at least cats are fairly self-sufficient."

Terry nearly melted. That was just so… _cute_.

Ah, shit. Not cute, not cute, not cute; he was NOT CUTE!

Now all she had to do was convince herself and things would be dandy.

Crap.

"I don't know where she learned how to quack, though."

"But, I bet the moment she did your big soft heart just melted."

Don scowled at her. "Who said I had a heart?"

Terry laughed at him.

"And what are you doing here, anyway?"

She blushed a bright pink. "I, uh, couldn't sleep," she confessed in a murmur.

His right eyebrow arched and a smug smile appeared on his face. "_Really_?" There it was again; that intrigued, superior tone that had been driving her crazy for days.

Terry took the hand that had been scratching Princess' ears and smacked him with it. "Shut up. There was absolutely nothing sexual in it until you decided to get grabby."

"I'm a man who discovered a beautiful, barely-clothed woman in his bed. You do the math."

"I prefer to leave math in Charlie's hands, thank you." She decided to leave the fact that he'd called her "beautiful" alone. The phone rang, interrupting their moment and Don broke their eye contact to answer it.

"Hey, Charlie."

Terry decided that it was high time that she left and got ready for the day and returned to her own apartment.

Don had let himself into her apartment, showered and dressed for work, and was waiting with a pot of coffee by the time she stepped out of the shower and Terry took the mug he handed her gratefully. "What time is it?" she asked as she sipped the perfectly doctored brew.

"A little before eight." As it was Saturday, they weren't due in the office until nine-thirty. "Charlie wants us to stop and pick him up on the way to the office and he and Dad thought we might want breakfast if we get there a little early."

"Did they invite us, or you?"

"Well, me, because they don't know you're with me, but I'm officially extending the invitation to you. Besides, do you honestly think you can pass up one of Dad's Saturday morning breakfasts?"

Terry considered that for all of a second. The way her mouth watered decided it. Alan Eppes' meals were not something to be missed if one possessed any sanity at all. "Count me in."

Don grinned at her as if it was a foregone conclusion. "Of course you are."

Terry took their mugs and rinsed them out while Don grabbed her purse and case files and they walked out together.

Don opened the door to his childhood home without knocking and ushered Terry in. Some demon of mischief gave them the idea to take their shoes off and see how close they could get to the kitchen without being heard. They entered the kitchen and Alan and Charlie merely glanced up, obviously far too used to such pranks to fall for it.

"Just in time," Alan said as he delivered the last plate to the table. Terry sat down and quickly counted place settings.

_Why_ was the table set for four?

"Did you tell them I was coming?" Terry hissed to her errant partner.

"Nope," Don denied.

"Then how-…?"

"Don't ask."

"Everything looks fabulous, Mr. Eppes," she complimented sincerely and was pleasantly surprised to see him flush.

* * *

Terry didn't see it until the workday was over. The office was completely empty save for her, David, and Don, though Don had sent David on some errand, so it was just the two of them and Don had rolled up his sleeves and taken his tie ("the noose!") off and undone the first couple of buttons. 

Terry stared, admired, and drooled (discreetly, of course) over the picture he made and that was when the little discoloration at the point where his neck met his collarbone caught her eye. A closer look revealed that it was what she thought.

A hickey.

Her first instinct was to rush over and inspect it much more closely, but she admirably restrained herself and resorted to staring, absolutely fascinated.

Don noticed her intent gaze and looked down at his shirt, expecting to see a huge coffee stain, or something, but found nothing. "What?"

Terry fished a compact mirror out of her desk drawer and tossed it to him. "You have a hickey!" she hissed.

Don caught it and held it up so he could inspect the spot she indicated and shrugged, a smug smile appearing on his face. "So I do. You couldn't keep yourself from branding me, could you?" he added with a raised eyebrow.

Terry completely missed his teasing tone and chucked her stapler at him. "Jerk! Cover it up, or something."

Don adeptly caught the stapler and placed it on his desk next to her mirror. "How about "or something"?" A hand drifted up to the buttons on his shirt and slowly released one… two… He reached for a third but changed his mind and spread the collar wider so that what could have been construed as a figment of the imagination was up front and centre in full, raging Technicolor.

She made a sound that was almost a growl. Grabbing her purse, Terry rose and stalked towards him, her ire growing as he merely tipped back in his chair to look up at her. "Either you cover it up, or I will," she threatened.

Don almost asked how she intended to do that but he took in her thunderous expression and decided he'd taken his life in his hands enough for one day. However, he was curious so he made absolutely no move to re-button his shirt.

Terry scowled at him and dug in her purse for a second. When she came up with a small silver squeeze-tube and waved it in his face, Don eyed it enquiringly. He was about to ask what she planned to do with it, but decided that maybe her showing him would be more interesting. She unscrewed the lid and set it aside and then, with Don watching avidly, squeezed a flesh-coloured substance onto her fingers and moved her hand to his neck.

Despite his better judgement, Don reared back and eyed her fingers suspiciously. "What is that?"

Thankfully, Terry pulled her hand back. Unfortunately for him, she also smirked dangerously. "You refused to do it the easy way. Now it's my turn." She put the tube down and moved his shirt collar aside. Don forced himself to stay still as she daubed the concealer onto his skin. He'd only brought it on himself by being difficult, after all. She finished and surveyed her handiwork. He got a bit worried when she made a dissatisfied noise, but she merely set the scary tube aside and did up a few of his buttons. She nodded and stepped away to re-cap the tube and hid it back in her purse where it belonged and Don grabbed up the compact mirror to inspect her work for himself.

He had to admit it; he was impressed. Between the make-up and his shirt he could barely tell that he'd had the hickey in the first place.

Damn it.

"I don't know why you're not more upset about this," Terry said as she took her mirror back.

The look Don gave her clearly said, "What, are you kidding?". "Come on, Terry, a beautiful woman marks me as hers – a favour I fully plan to return, by the way – and I'm supposed to be upset about it?"

He grinned when her cheeks pinkened. A diabolical notion occurred to him and he stood, flashing her his best smile. He moved towards her and cornered her against a wall. "What's wrong, Lake? Can't take the heat?" The question served as a challenge and her acceptance flashed in her eyes.

Uh-oh. He was doomed.

Instead of trying to escape like she had been, Terry's attitude did an abrupt about-face. A wicked smile appeared on her lips and she leaned into him. "Oh, I can take it, Eppes. The question is: can you?"

Don leaned down and Terry stretched up and their lips were mere inches from each other and Don braced himself for the make-out session of his life to rival their hottest in the Academy.

And then David walked in with the files they'd asked him to retrieve.

_Damn _it!

Don reared back and away and hid his heaving chest behind his desk and a thick file. Terry followed suit and clutched another file to her chest. While David delivered some of the files at his own desk Terry made herself scarce. "Any breakthroughs?" David asked, oblivious to the tension.

Don had to clear his throat before answering. "Uh, not exactly. Look," he continued, checking his watch, "it's already nine; why don't we just call it a night?"

David gave him a slightly confused look, but wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to skip out before Don changed his mind. "Sure. Night." David quickly gathered everything he needed and nearly ran out the door.

Don grinned triumphantly and faced the office at large. "He's gone."

Terry appeared from behind the conference room door and smiled sheepishly. "Good. Ready to go?"

Don grabbed the files he fully intended to study back home and waited patiently while Terry collected her things. They shared a fond, slightly awkward smile as they walked onto the elevator but remained largely silent throughout the entire ride back to their apartment building.

* * *

Three in the morning found Don sneaking into Terry's bed. He'd tried to sleep, honest to God he had, but that blissful state had been more elusive than their serial bomber and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. 

So here he was, risking life and limb for just a few hours sleep. He slid beneath the covers on the side of the bed Terry wasn't occupying and sighed as her scent enveloped him.

All the designer perfume in the world had absolutely nothing on Terry Lake.

Don smiled as she rolled over and snuggled right into him. He gladly accommodated her knee between his, her arm around his back and her face in his throat and wrapped his arms around her and simply wallowed, marvelling at how perfectly she fit him.

Finally, peace at last.

He was just drifting off to sleep when a small fur ball leaped onto the bed beside him with a quack of greeting.

He swore to God that the bloody cat was magic…

FIN

* * *

AN: I have actually met a quacking cat. Unfortunately, Duckie never actually quacked for me, but I have it on good authority that the little Spawn of Satan can, indeed, quack. Either way, I thought it was so funny that I couldn't help putting it in. ) Never mind tele-porting cats...  



	6. Waffling

**Waffling (aka: The Epilogue)**

**Author's Notes: **Well, here it is: The Final Installment of "Reservations"! Just in time for Valentine's Day! It is now complete; there will be no more. ( Thanks to everyone for all your support and your lovely reviews. Don/Terry Forever!

**Summary:** It's time for Don and Terry to stop waffling around...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I just took them out for a spin. I don't think they're too damaged, though they may be in need of therapy...

* * *

Don woke slowly, as was usual lately, shifting comfortably against the warmly familiar weight pressed against his side as her breath whispered over his collarbone. His first thought was, '_Wow, she feels good._' 

'_Why am I naked?_' was his second.

Suddenly very awake, Don took stock of his surroundings, starting with the person lying partway on top of him. Between the naked skin his hand was touching and her sensation of her phenomenal breasts pressed right up against his ribcage, he was pretty sure that she as wearing considerably less than she usually did.

The clincher was the silky soft skin of her inner thigh lying across one of his and the ('_Oh my God!_') nest of soft curls riding high on his hip. Terry evidently noticed how tense she was because she squirmed delightfully and did a cat-like full-body stretch.

So that instead of merely resting on him, she was trying to mould herself into him. Oh, holy…

While he was busy trying to dispel the fog that settled over his vision, her hand flexed slightly, gently squeezing part of his chest, and she blinked awake, peering up at him through her lashes. "Hi," she murmured, settling back down to wallow in his warmth.

Don knew the instant she realized what had him so tense, because she reared up and back, taking most of the covers with her. He scrambled for a part of the blankets to cover his lap, and glowered at her. "What?"

"Don!" she cried. A glint of gold near the blanket covering her left breast caught his eye and he peered at it. Apparently, something about him captured her attention because she squinted at him, too.

And promptly reared back so fast she fell off the other side of the bed. Taking all of the blankets with her. "Terry!" he exclaimed, scrambling over to check on her. She stood, one arm holding the covers tightly to her chest while the other brushed hair out of her eyes. Terry took one look at him and he watched, utterly fascinated, as her ears turned a delicate shade of pink. She spun, hunting for something on the floor, and presented him with her incredible backside.

And then she bent over to pick whatever it was up, and he caught a brief glimpse of paradise. She straightened and turned back to face him, freezing as she noticed his intent, very _interested_, gaze. It took her a moment to work out why he was looking at her like… _that_, and when she did, Terry made a noise of disbelief and she chucked his boxers at his head. "Perve!" she accused, but it was terribly difficult to stay angry at him when his eyes had turned black, and he was eyeing the sheet like that.

Terry let her eyes roam the room while he donned the boxers, but her attention was caught by a piece of paper on the nightstand. Not normally a cause for alarm, but this piece of paper had a very official-looking seal on it. She staggered forward, quite a feat when she was trailing a few extra feet of bed-sheet and blanket, and picked the paper up.

She scanned through it once, and her grip loosened and she sank back down on the bed beside Don. Who promptly plucked it out of her slackened fingers and read it for himself. His eyes widened and the little piece of paper fluttered down to rest on the floor.

The little piece of paper that declared that Donald Adam Eppes and Theresa Jane Lake had been married at Cupid's Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas, Nevada the night before.

"Don, what the hell happened last night?"

"I have no freaking idea."

And neither of them could remember a thing about it. They stared at the simple gold wedding bands on each of their left ring fingers for several minutes before Don summed up their thoughts in two succinct words:

"Holy shit."

* * *

After showering – separately – and dressing (also separately), they met in the kitchen where Princess happily gobbled up her breakfast, stopping occasionally to quack a greeting. Don placed a mug of coffee in front of Terry when she sat down and they both stared at the marriage certificate. 

"Well, it's Sunday; we can go over to my Dad's house for breakfast (it's Belgian Waffle Day), and then take a day trip up to see if it's legit," Don suggested after a while.

Terry considered that for all of two seconds. To willingly miss out on Waffle Day at Casa Eppes was a sure sign of insanity, especially since he pulled out all the stops. It was sacrilege to go over and not find every sweet, gooey, fattening topping in the house piled on the table. It was the one day of the week when healthy eating went right out the window. Terry herself would start with a healthy layer of butter, peanut butter, and Nutella©. Then would come the strawberries (sliced the night before and with a generous amount of sugar added so that there would be sweet strawberry juice to pour on as well), and the maple syrup. Last would be a scoop of ice cream, and a huge dollop of whipped cream to cover the whole thing.

Just thinking about it made her mouth water. Her mind made up, Terry tossed Don's car keys at him and dashed into the bedroom to find her purse. Don refilled Princess' water dish and checked her food dish and litter box. Terry met him at the front door with a pair of golden chains, to hang their rings from she explained. Don was surprisingly reluctant to take the little gold band off but complied.

Partway to his brother's house Don was a little surprised to note the slender hand resting peacefully in his, fingers entwined, on the console between them. Don flashed her a smile and gently squeezed her fingers, pleased when she returned the gesture. They didn't speak, neither willing to be the one to break the peace.

"Morning!" Don called as he ushered Terry inside.

Alan appeared in the kitchen entrance. "Ah, Don, Terry, you're just in time. Donnie, go get your brother, would you? He disappeared in the garage bright and early this morning."

"Sure thing, Dad."

He returned, with Charlie in tow, to find Terry moving around the countertop, happily (one might even go so far as to say excitedly) piling her plate high. Don could have sworn he heard her chuckling gleefully, but he knew that unless he wanted to spent the next week sleeping alone (that is to say, not sleeping at all), he'd keep his mouth shut. Charlie chuckled affectionately at the tiny blonde agent and joined her, laughing when she playfully smeared whipped cream on his cheek.

Charlie did her one better and placed a dollop of Nutella© on the tip of her nose. If she crossed her eyes, she could see it; however, it was simply out of reach of her tongue. Terry pouted and reached for a napkin, mourning the waste of perfectly good chocolaty goodness, when Don stepped forward with a smile.

A thoroughly _wicked_ smile. That rat she used to call a friend didn't wipe her nose off with his finger, oh no; he leaned down a bit, and _kissed_ it off, swirling his tongue around just to make sure he'd got all of it! Terry couldn't help that her eyes glazed over, but in her defence, the man was simply too sexy for his own good. Really, that much sex appeal in one person should have been illegal. Don drew back and licked his lips. "Yummy," he murmured, eyes twinkling down at her. Terry was suddenly very glad she'd left her plate sitting on the counter because her knees were very close to buckling.

A hastily stifled snicker brought her back to earth with a bump. Holy crap! She'd been this close to jumping Don's bones in his brother's kitchen while Alan and Charlie _watched_! Eyes narrowing, Terry grabbed her plate and shoved past Don with a sound of outrage. She joined Alan and Charlie at the table, noticing too late that she'd forgotten to grab some bacon because Don the Rat had distracted her. Terry knew her ears were turning red but ignored it, and them, choosing to bury herself in her breakfast.

Don joined them a few minutes later, and shovelled half of his bacon onto her plate. He gently nudged her with an elbow when she refused to acknowledge him and she glared at him over her fork. "So, you kids got any plans today?" Alan asked jovially.

"Terry and I have an investigation out of town, so we won't be here for dinner," Don replied.

"That's too bad," Alan said. "I was going to make barbequed spare ribs tonight." He smiled at them when their eyes widened. "But, with the right kind of bribery, I could probably be convinced to set some aside for you."

Don considered swearing over his and Terry's firstborn and he realized that Charlie was looking at them rather bizarrely. "Charlie, you all right?"

Charlie blinked at them as a queer sort of smile crossed his face. "No, no, I'm fine. You guys have fun on your field trip. If you guys'll pick me up on your way to work in the morning, I should have something for you."

"Deal. Done, Terry?" Don asked as he stood and took his plate over to the sink. Terry scowled at him but rose as well, shovelling the remains of her breakfast into the garbage can with a tiny whimper of dismay.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mr. Eppes. It was fantastic, like usual." She walked back over to affectionately buss Charlie's and Alan's cheeks.

"How many times do I have to tell you, dear? It's Alan. You're practically one of the family. Maybe eventually we'll get you up to "Dad"," he added with a pointed look in Don's direction. She grinned shyly at him and took her leave, with Don trailing behind her as he promised his father the moon in exchange for some leftover ribs. "A daughter-in-law and grandchildren should do nicely," Alan said, grinning at Don's discomfited groan.

"Anything a little less lofty on your list, Dad?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. How about it, Terry? Would you mind helping to make this old man's dream come true before he dies?"

Terry turned bright red and escaped as raucous laughter was heard from the kitchen. "Dad! Now you've gone and embarrassed her!" Don complained.

"Donnie, that there is a wonderful girl and before you know it, she's going to give up on waiting for you to wake up and realize that she's right in front of you."

"_Dad_!" Don exclaimed as he, too, escaped into the warm Los Angeles sunshine.

"Donnie, wait!" Alan rushed down the stairs and pressed something into Don's hand. "That was your mother's. She wanted you to have it for when you found The One." Don stared, flabbergasted at the diamond solitaire engagement ring that sparkled in the light. "Think about it." Alan walked back inside, his work done, as Don could only stand, speechless, staring at his mother's ring.

"Don! Sin City can't wait forever, you know!" Terry's impatient shout brought him back to his senses and his finished the walk to the SUV. He tucked the ring into his pocket for later as he opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. "Well, what did he say to you?"

"Nothing," Don claimed, starting the engine. He cranked the volume on the radio as he began the arduous and highly frustrating task of getting onto the I-15 to Las Vegas around irritating weekenders who didn't know how to drive.

* * *

Don held the door for Terry as they entered Cupid's Wedding Chapel on Las Vegas Boulevard South, and shoved his sunglasses up to rest on the top of his head while Terry did the same. She pulled out the marriage certificate and preceded up him up to the main desk and the person manning it. "Hi, we're looking for Reverend… Dan?" she said, squinting at the name underneath both of theirs on the license. 

The amiable older gentleman smiled warmly. "That's me, honey. What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember officiating this?" she asked, placing the certificate on the counter and shoving it towards him.

He placed a slender pair of reading glasses on his nose and peered through them. "Oh, now I know why you two look so familiar! You were my last couple of the night!"

"We were?"

"Oh, you kids were so cute; you couldn't keep your hands off each other!"

"We couldn't?" Terry repeated with a squeak.

"Nope," he confirmed with a smile.

"Did we seem drunk at all?" Don asked cautiously.

Dan shook his head with a smile playing about his lips. "Drunk on love, maybe. I have standards here, and one of them is that I do not marry people who are under the influence of alcohol or drugs. You kids were stone sober," he confirmed. "Why? You can't remember?"

Evidently, their expressions spoke for them because Reverend Dan burst into laughter. "Want me to repeat it for you? Free of charge," he offered.

Don retrieved the marriage certificate with a grin. "We're going to have to get back to you on that. Thanks, though."

"Any time, folks."

The moment they were out of sight of the main doors, Terry turned on him. "Holy shit, Don!"

"I know," he responded. "Fully legal and everything. What are we going to do about work?"

"Or we could just get this annulled and nobody has to know."

He pouted a little. "You don't want to be married to me?"

She scoffed. "I'd just hoped that when the time came, I'd _remember_ it!" Her eyes widened and she nearly clapped a hand over her mouth.

Don couldn't take it any more and yanked her close enough to lay a kiss on her. A kiss that quickly spiralled out of control. When they separated, they were both breathing hard and their pupils had dilated so wide, their eyes were almost black. Don smiled as he planted little butterfly kisses down the line of her jaw. Something in him snapped into place and he found himself pulling away. He ignored her questioning "Don?" and slowly went down on one knee. Terry's eyes widened and her breathing started coming faster as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the singularly most beautiful diamond ring she'd ever seen in her life.

"We've never followed convention before when it comes to our relationship, so I don't know why this would be any different," he started. "Terry, I've loved you for so long now, I can't remember what my life was like without you in it. Will you marry me and put me out of my misery?"

"Oh, Don," she breathed. Then she reached out and dragged him to his feet so she could kiss him properly. Then she slugged him. "You dolt! We're already married!"

Don leaned in for another soul-stealing kiss. "I know, but I figure this time we'll both be there to remember it. So, you want to take Reverend Dan up on his offer?"

"Your Dad'll murder you. Just like my mom will murder me," she added after a moment of consideration.

"So we'll have another ceremony to re-new the vows. Come on, Terry, what do you say?"

"Whose apartment are we going to live in?"

Don grinned and kissed her. "There's a house down the street from my dad and Charlie that's up for sale. Feel like going dutch?"

"How do you always know just what to say?"

"It's just part of my charm. So, wanna get hitched?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"You jerk."

"You know you love me."

"I didn't say that. Did you hear me say anything of the sort?" The next sound out of her mouth was a shriek of laughter, as Don chased her around the parking lot.

* * *

Late that night, as the newlyweds rested after yet another mind-blowing round of lovemaking, Don brushed his lips over Terry's hair. "Terr, what are we going to do about work? I don't want to have to keep this a secret forever." 

He felt her smile into his chest. "Merrick approached me on Friday afternoon," she said. "Apparently, Homeland Security is recruiting profilers to work with the Bureau. The Homeland Security guys get assigned to work with actual teams, but because I'd be officially working for them, there's no conflict of interest or fraternization issue. Merrick said I'd still be assigned to your team, just answering to a higher power."

Don whooped with delight and rolled her under him, kissing her until they were both feverish with desire. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Don," she replied on a moan. There wasn't much more said after that.

At least, not until Princess decided that the moving lumps under the covers were fair game for practicing pouncing.

On Don's backside...

With her claws out...

Terry laughed for ten minutes solid.

* * *

**Well, folks, there it is. I'll let you decide how the family and friends find out. Be kind, please review.**

**Peace, Love, & Fudge-Ripple-Ice-Cream,**

_Cen )_


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